


Comatose

by therealassistant



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: And a lot of comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also no honorifics because i still dont get them, alternate title: team dr are assholes and dont tell anyone stuff, its ouma not oma, last two characters listed are either mentioned or have small roles, like a LOT of comfort, major spoilers for game are in this fic, virtual reality au, when i say hurt/comfort i mean little hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-20 05:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealassistant/pseuds/therealassistant
Summary: Right when his life was finally beginning to return to normal, or at least, what could be considered normal nowadays, life decides to turn everything he knew upside down once again.Four years after it's made, Shuichi is finally able to fulfill a promise to an old friend.





	Comatose

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for shsl-detective-gamer for the drv3 valentines day gift exchange, and I hope they like this gift! Thank you for being patient, and I apologize for finishing this so late! I have tons of excuses for that, but I don't think anyone really wants to. hear them lmao
> 
> a few side notes, each character is kind of a fusion of their pre-game and in game self here, yet their in-game self is the more prominent side of them. ALSO, im not that good at writing. romance.
> 
> and i am not good at making fic titles too.
> 
> onto the disclaimers! 
> 
> i own nothing
> 
> now onto the fic!

"A-Are you sure this is a good idea..?"

The boy in the black uniform smirks as he waves the flyer in the air, the words on it barely visible as he did. "Of course I'm sure, why wouldn't I be?"

The much shorter boy gulps, tugging on his collar as he tries to sink into his desk's seat. "W-Well... Can't we... You know, die..? We're only sixteen... We still have our lives ahead of us..."

"Augh, didn't you hear me before? Jeez, when it doesn't come to some sort of lesson, you really just stop listening..." He slams the flyer back on the desk, pointing to the words under "Season V3 Danganronpa Auditions" and the dates for it. "Look, they're trying out some sort of virtual reality tech this year. So even if you do die in the killing game, there's a chance that you'll still live".

The much shorter boy sits up a bit straighter to look at the words, his violet eyes darting over them quickly before looking back at the boy in front of him. "... S-Still, they're only t-trying it out... Th-There's a chance it won't-"

He stops once he sees the scowl on the other's face, almost shrinking under it. "Come on. You know how long I've wanted to try out for Danganronpa, and now my uncle is finally letting me because of this whole tech stuff, and I just... Want you to try out with me, cause I know you like the show too, and don't lie and say you don't. You suck at lying".

When the purple haired boy doesn't say anything in response besides stare at him with lingering fear, the raven haired boy sighs, fidgeting with the hat on his head as he looks off to the side. "... Sorry..." After a few minutes of silence, the raven haired boy removes the flyer from the desk, folding it and putting it into his pocket as he speaks. "Here, how about a deal? After we both try out, and the killing game is over, and we both live, cause we are going to survive, regardless if we get killed or not, I'll do whatever you want. How about it?"

The purple haired boy stares at the other in silence for a few minutes, before looking away. For a split second, the black haired boy thinks that he will decline, and that he will have to audition alone, when the purple haired boy finally speaks up. "... A d-date..."

"... Huh?"

For once, the purple haired boy looks determined, clenching his hands into fists as he leans forward on his desk, his gaze intense. "... A-After the killing game, w-will you go on a date with m-me, Shuichi..?"

For a few moments, Shuichi doesn't know what to say, his sudden blush barely visible underneath his hat and black hair, yet he still manages to smile and to eventually speak. "... Y-Yeah, I promise, Kokichi. When the killing game is over, we'll go on a date".

Shuichi readjusts the shopping bag in his hand before walking out of the store, ignoring how the bitter cold of the outside world digs into his skin, raking its claws across his face and leaving behind a stinging sensation. Instead, he tries his best to focus on the snow beneath his feet, and is careful not to slip on any ice as he walks back to the apartment building he lived in.

He watches a puff of mist leave his mouth as he walks back home, seeming oblivious to the world around him, his gray eyes dully staring at the ground while his black boots sunk a bit into the snow. Yet the occasional way his eyes darted around him betrays the illusion of obliviousness he held, looking over nearly every person that passed him, as if to see whether he could approve them for some test, before quickly looking away.

He's halfway home when the phone in his trench coat pocket rings, causing him to flinch and for the few people near him to look his way. Their gazes bring a somewhat distant feeling to Shuichi, something he hasn't experienced in awhile, and it's not a good one. Quickly, he takes the phone out of his pocket, answering it without looking at the caller ID, quickening his pace just a bit. Hopefully, it's just his boss asking about the crime scene report he was supposed to have by tomorrow, and he was already ready to say that it was done, as it has been for the past few days.

"Mr. Teijo, I'm sorry for not calling sooner, I-"

_"Shuichi, it's me, Maki"._

This time, Shuichi freezes up completely, nearly hanging up the phone right then and there. When was the last time he talked to one of the other survivors of that stupid, ridiculous killing game, though? Two, three years ago? Hell, he isn't even sure how Maki got his number, as he didn't recall giving her, or even Himiko, any of his contact information before he left. He had no intention of being found once again, at least on someone else's terms.

Then again, this was Maki. He recalls a distant memory of a young astronaut who laughs and says that she can get anything done once she sets her mind to it.

His hand around the phone clenches, his grip on the phone tightening just a bit, yet the memory forces words to leave his mouth, giving him energy he wasn't aware he had before. "Maki, I haven't heard from you in awhile. How have you and Himiko been?"

For a few seconds, Shuichi hears nothing from the other side of the phone, and he removes it from his ear to check if the call was still running, frowning just a bit in confusion once he sees that it was. As he places the phone back over his ear, Maki's voice returns, carrying a slight edge in it that wasn't there before. _"Besides worrying sick about you, we've been fine. How about you?"_

A small part of Shuichi, something that he has wanted to get rid of since he woke up from the killing game, something that he absolutely hated, whispers into his ear like a devil's advocate. How dare she talk to him like that? She should mind her own business, hell, she shouldn't even have this number in the first place.

Shuichi screws his eyes shut for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Just breath, allowing the cold to rip into his throat before he exhales, a puff of mist floating in the air for a second before disappearing. Repeat.

_"... Shuichi, are you okay?"_

His eyes snap open at the voice, only to see that he nearly passed his apartment building. He freezes up for a second, before he quickly walks up to the door as he gave a rushed response, his words tripping over each other. "S-Sorry, got side tracked. I-I've been fine, w-why do you a-ask?"

_"... Well, it's just that Himiko and I got a letter today from Team Danganronpa, and we were wondering if you got one too"._

... A letter? From Team Danganronpa?

Shuichi feels his eyes narrow just a bit as he thinks over the contents of his mailbox in the building, glancing at it for a fleeting second as he walks by it before facing forward and down the hallway to his apartment. "... No, I don't recall getting one. Then again, I don't really look over the mail I get. I can check once I get to my apartment".

_"Alright... Call me back if you find anything... Actually, no, call me back even if you didn't get a letter. We are going to have a very, very long talk, Shuichi Saihara."_

Shuichi actually gives a chopped laugh at her words, although it sounds more so like a scoff, even to him, yet he continues to speak like nothing was wrong as he stopped in front of his apartment door. "As long as it isn't too long of a talk, then that's fine by me". 

He hangs up once Maki stops the call on her end, sighing as he turned off his phone before digging into his pocket to find his key. Luckily, he manages to find it without it piercing his hand, unlocking the door and getting inside within seconds as the details of the phone call raced through his head.

Was he really okay with talking to Maki, or even Himiko, again after all this time? He wasn't the same person he was years ago, he was sure of that. Then again, none of them really were the same person they were three years ago, were they?

The raven haired boy shakes his head as he walks into his apartment, setting the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter before walking to the small table in the center of the room. He could think about his discussion with Maki later, for now, he had to check and see if he got a letter from Team Danganronpa.

For his sake, he sure as hell hoped he didn't.

He flicks the light on quickly, waiting a second for his eyes to readjust before he takes off his trench coat and drapes it over a chair he then sits down on, grimacing at the pile of mail that covered nearly the entire table. He never really threw away any mail he got, but he also never really got that much mail in the first place. At first, it didn't seem like a problem, when he was in a slightly happier time and obsessed with finding his "true self".

Now, he was tired, his job as a detective robbing him of whatever life he could have been able to make, staring down at the pile of letters with a look of disdain and dread.

He runs a hand down his face as he sighs, ignoring how his hand scrapes against the thin five o clock shadow on his face, before beginning his search for the letter. After all, it was better to get it done and over with now than later, right?

Still, it doesn't seem to take him that long to find the letter. And while Shuichi would like to say he found it because of his quick reading and deductive skills, it was mostly because of the giant Team Danganronpa logo on the envelope. 

He stares down at the envelope in his, slightly shaking, hands, his gray eyes somewhat wide as he examined it. What exactly did Team Danganronpa want from him now? Besides probably having him retract his statements and actions that shut down the killing games entirely, of course.

He's just about to open the envelope when his doorbell rings, causing him to drop the envelope in his hands before looking up.

Shuichi stares at the door for what seems like minutes before it rings again, forcing him into action. He looks to the right at the microwave clock, and nearly bites his lip once he saw that two hours have passed since he got home from the store. His mind doesn't linger on that for long, though, and neither does he ponder about who exactly could be at his door.

No, instead, he walks right over to his front door, his shoes gently sinking into the carpet floor as he moved, opening the door without second thought.

He's opening his mouth to make his standard greeting, preparing to use some sort of fake name if it's a Danganronpa obsessed fan, when he freezes up completely.

Because who he sees in front of him is someone he never expected to see again.

Kokichi looks up at him in surprise for a moment, gloved hands gripping a piece of paper in his hands a bit tighter as he stared at Shuichi, the backpack on him almost seeming bigger than the smaller man. It even seemed to overwhelm Kokichi, and Shuichi would have found the scene hilarious if he was not thinking over how a dead man could be at his doorstep.

"... Uhm..." Kokichi wrings his hands nervously, the paper in his hand crinkling just a bit. "... I'm sorry, but do you know which apartment Shuichi Saihara lives in..? T-The directory said that this apartment was his, but, uh..."

At first, Shuichi is unable to say anything, simply staring down at the purple haired boy, who fidgets nervously under his gaze. Only a few awkward minutes after Kokichi spoke did Shuichi finally realize what he was saying, rubbing his hand against his eyes in an attempt to get rid of his sudden migraine as he spoke. "No, you... Y-You're at the right apartment".

Kokichi stared at the raven haired man for a moment, making it Shuichi's turn to nervously live through his gaze. Yet it was something familiar, at least. In the killing game, Kokichi's stares were uncomfortable, judging, even mocking. Yet there were the occasional glimpses of warmth and kindness that were hidden by what Shuichi thought was a somewhat sadistic pleasure.

His pre-game self was much more different, though, as that boy seemed to not have a single mean bone in his body. Shuichi had dozens upon dozens of memories of warm, kind eyes full of nothing but light and some sort of joke Shuichi had yet to get or understand. 

Back then, he had some dreams of those days, yet he had eventually come to accept that he would never see them again. And now, right when he was used to it, this happened, and his words take on a whole new meaning. Because then, he knew he would not have those kinds of days because Kokichi Ouma was dead.

Now, though, he knew he would never have those days because the man in front of him would never be that kid again.

As the stare goes from awkward to becoming uncomfortable, Shuichi clears his throat, taking a step back and opening the door just a bit. "D-Do you want to, ah... Come in-?"

"Wow, you sure wheeled out the hospitality wagon, didn't you?" Kokichi walks into his apartment before Shuichi can react, taking one look around the small apartment before turning back to Shuichi, who slowly shut the door behind him. "Then again, none of this really screams "welcome back"! No offense, Shuichi, but you kind of look like you just climbed out of a dumpster"

Shuichi seemed a bit speechless at Kokichi's words, glancing at the mirror hanged up besides the door before deciding that maybe, just maybe, Kokichi was right about that. 

The dark circles were prominent against his pale complexion, his long black hair a bit tangled and reaching down to his shoulders. Even his somewhat younger, almost smoother features of his face was hidden by the thin facial hair that had grown there in the past two weeks.

He didn't allow himself to look at his reflection for too long though, shaking his head before looking back towards the previously dead man, who was now rummaging through his kitchen. "Man, Shuichi. You don't have a lot of food here, do you? I mean, not a single carbonated drink or-?"

"How are you alive?"

The shaky words leave Shuichi's mouth without warning, yet he does not try to take them back or regret them as Kokichi looks up from his cabinet adventure to look at Shuichi. "... What do you mean?"

Shuichi sputters at Kokichi's question, taking a second to recollect himself before he is able to form a complete sentence. "Wh-What do you-? What do I mean?! Are you kidding me? Don't you remember?! You were crushed by a hydraulic press!"

Shuichi can feel hot, warm tears beginning to leave his eyes for the first time in years, yet he does not react to them, only seeing Kokichi as the much shorter boy hums in thought, placing a hand under his chin as he looked off to the side. "Hm, I do recall something like that, but I mean, I was in a virtual reality". He waves a hand towards Shuichi as he faces the other man once again. "Didn't you say that since it's a virtual reality, there's a chance I wouldn't actually die? They just didn't specify when... I would..."

His voice trails off once he sees the tears trailing down Shuichi's face, his eyes widening just a bit, and Shuichi almost laughs. He is not used to the sudden concern Kokichi is now showing, yet at the same time, the look is familiar to him, something left over from a life long ago.

He doesn't even realize that Kokichi is next to him until he feels a hand against his back, and he hears Kokichi's voice, usually loud and childish, being low and quiet, whispering hushed reassurances that barely reach Shuichi's ears.

Yet it is enough for him, as for the first time in years, Shuichi finally allows himself to cry, allowing every emotion he had felt since the killing game ended to emerge at once.

###### 

_Dear Shuichi Saihara,_

_We express our deepest apologies, as we have neglected to inform you before about the condition of the other contestants that had died during the killing game. We did not know whether they would survive, and did not want the potential emotional baggage and stress of such a scenario to make your situation worse. Now, though, conditions have improved, and all of the contestants have recovered amazingly well and will return to their homes soon._

_That being said, some of the participants do not have homes to go to. One person being Kokichi Ouma, as his records show that he was orphaned, and never adopted. As such, we will have him stay with you until he can go out and stand on his own two feet, as you seem to have the deepest connection with him. We wish you the best of luck, and remind you that you are under contract for this sort of task._

_Sincerely,_

_Team Danganronpa_

Shuichi blinks a few times before reading over the letter once again, ignoring how Kokichi's head dug into his shoulder just a bit as he snored, his purple hair now a mess. The raven haired man didn't seem to mind, though. After all, having the boy sleep against him on the couch did seem like fair payment for just crying in front of the shorter man for a hour straight, although he would have guessed that he should have been the one exhausted now. That, and after calling Maki once Kokichi fell asleep, he felt almost drained from everything that happened that day.

Yet all he can think of is the words on the letter now, and what they were implying exactly. How it claimed that he was the one with the deepest connection to Kokichi.

He blushed as he recalled one of the last memories he had with the other man before they entered the killing game, about the promise he had made with him. As well as some of the other fun, more light hearted memories he had with Kokichi at the time.

Would Kokichi even remember it? And even if he did, would he still want to follow through with it?

Shuichi sighed as he leaned his head back, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. He shouldn't worry about this, not while Kokichi was right next to him. He should just ask the other about it tomorrow, and then get a straight answer out of him then.

###### 

Shuichi is not surprised over how he is the first one that gets up in the morning, what he is surprised about is how Kokichi wakes up nearly three hours after him. Thankfully, though, he had no work that day, and had the patience of a saint.

While Shuichi was dressed in his work clothes, almost looking wide awake as he made breakfast, though, Kokichi remained in the outfit he had slept in, his hair a gigantic mess, yawning as he stumbled towards the table. He flinched a bit as his stomach rammed into said table, before adjusting himself so that he sat on one of the few chairs surrounding it, nearly tripping on Shuichi's trench coat in the process, covering his mouth as he yawned once again before speaking. "Good mooooorning Shuichi..." He then opened one of his eyes just a bit, looking Shuichi over before shutting it again. "... You look different..."

Shuichi only nodded his head, trying his best to focus on the eggs and toast in front of him. He had taken the time to at least make himself seem presentable again, shaving the facial hair off his face before combing his hair. While the second task did take longer than the first task, and he nearly cut his own face a few times in the process of the first task, he felt like his old self for the first time in awhile.

Conversation was still limited between the two though as Shuichi finished making breakfast, with Kokichi making the occasional comment while Shuichi could only hum in response. Once breakfast was done, though, and it was on put on plates and taken to the table, Shuichi finally began to strike up a conversation. "So, are you doing anything today?"

Kokichi hummed in thought for a moment, slathering his egg with some honey as he thought, taking a bite of toast before speaking. "Well, I found a job before I got here. It's down the street, actually. Some sort of flower shop, which is nice". He then smirked, carrying a hint of mischief in it that Shuichi found very familiar. "Why do you ask?'

"Ah, w-well..." Shuichi stared down at his plate, his hands clapped together as he thought over what he was going to say. How should he word this exactly? "... I-I was wondering if you wanted to..." He could practically feel his face heat up as time went on, his hands beginning to shake just a bit as he did. "... W-Well, we made a promise, and I was wondering if you s-still wanted to... To go on a date..? T-Tonight".

Shuichi never before, not once in his life, ever wanted to wear that stupid hat from before more so than now, or just anything at all to hide his face from sight. He barely glances up to see Kokichi, who stares at him blankly for a moment before speaking. "... Isn't this technically a date we're having right now?" His blank look quickly turns confused. "Well, I thought it was, at least..."

Shuichi freezes up at that, thinking over everything he had done this morning, before realizing that he had made both of them breakfast, as well as taking a long time clean himself up for the first time in a few weeks. Now that he thought about it, the more he began to realize that what he was doing now was kind of like a date.

Before he can say anything, though, Kokichi speaks up once again, a small, teasing smile on his face as he took another bite of his toast. "I don't mind going on another date though, Shuichi". He then leans back in his chair just a bit, looking off to the side as he did. "I am having a bit of fun, after all..."

A few seconds of silence stretches on before Kokichi sits up straight, nearly causing Shuichi to jump at the sudden movement. "Shit, is it really 9:39 already?! I'm going to be late! Shuichi, quick, where's your bedroom?!"

It took Shuichi a few seconds to actually point towards the hall leading to his bedroom, but once he did, Kokichi sped away from the table like a bullet, quickly picking up his backpack before disappearing down the hallway, leaving Shuichi to watch him leave.

The raven haired man could only smile at the sight though, an odd, warm feeling in his chest. He honestly hadn't looked forward to much since he woke up from the killing game, but now, now he could finally find some sort of happiness in his life. And that happiness came in an unexpected place, and in the unexpected form of Kokichi Ouma.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he was able to fulfill the promise he had made, and while the people both of them were at the time are now dead, maybe the two people that took their place could live the happy lives they deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaAAAHHHH i cant believe i actually finished this! i don't have much to say really, besides thank you for reading my fic!
> 
> Feedback is welcomed/appreciated, and I hope you all have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening!


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